


maybe you’re my fairytale

by euphoricwinks



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: 2park, 9 lives - Freeform, M/M, Or maybe it is, True Love's Kiss, daehwi the cupid?, death warnings, jinhwi, macchiato yaaay, series of flashbacks so put your seatbelt on, this is not a fairytale, what happens after 6:23 pm, what’s with 6:23 pm, woojin our fave barista
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-06-23
Packaged: 2019-05-02 01:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 11,457
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14534040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euphoricwinks/pseuds/euphoricwinks
Summary: Jihoon don’t believe in fairytales, let alone in true love’s kiss but with the clock ticking and his death skimming towards him in less than 10 minutes, Jihoon wanted to try it with a little twist of macchiato.





	1. Chapter 1

_there is nothing_  
_more painful than_  
_grieving someone_  
_who’s still living_  
_-rupi kaur_

 

_One tap... two taps... three taps..._

With his right foot audibly tapping against the dry sidewalk, Jihoon watched the surrounding. He watched how the sun is starting to burn in orange as it made its way down from the already deep blue sky. He noticed how the leaves of the trees around him rustle as the cool winter breeze slightly brush against it, the same cool breeze that made him shake a little and wrap himself with his scarf tighter. The road before him is as busy as ever; the discordant sound of the car horns fill the air and the jabbering of the passing people combines together into a cacophonous chaos.

He looked at the watch lacing his left wrist. _Twelve seconds_ , he whispered to himself before throwing a look at the traffic light in front of him. ‘Fifteen seconds’ lit in red screams in front of his face. Fifteen seconds before he can finally cross to the other side of the road together with the people around him.

But he knows for himself, he won’t make it to the other side unscathed or breathing for he is three seconds short. He won’t even make it to his destination. He swiftly made his eyes wander and tried to find something suspicious, something dangerous. However, it seems like there’s nothing to be afraid of since what lies before him is a plain sight of the outskirts of Seoul. The vehicles in front of him seems to be racing sluggishly, there are handfuls of people dotting the sidewalks and a police patrol situated nearby to maintain the peace in the area.

He wonders what will his death look like today. Is he going to suffer a gruesome death? Or is he going to die silently and slowly? Is he going to die in a car accident? Will his body be dragged fifty meters from where he is standing while leaving an undesirable view of bloody stains on the road in the process? Will his body unbelievably malfunction in any way and cut its breath on its own? Or is he going to be caught in a sudden police shootout leaving his body holey?

He checked his watch again. _Eight seconds..._

It was then when a gigantic, speedy dump truck bunked in front of them making winds gush through Jihoon. It made Jihoon’s heart drop from his ribcage to his stomach to his feet. The taste of nervousness tastes like bile under Jihoon’s tongue. It’s the eighth time Jihoon will die but his reflexes and desire to live—to somewhat save himself from the misfortune that awaits him, still lingers in his body. It is crawling inside him and perpetually whispering to him to save himself, to escape his fate and live longer, in a normal manner just like how mortals who walks the earth did. But Jihoon knows better, he won’t be saved. It happened to him seven times already and he would be lying if he would say that he never tried to save himself. He tried, a multiple times already and the result remains consistent: he fails. every. single. time.

Jihoon moves three steps backward following his instincts to move away from the road and settle himself into safety. The ground underneath him is still vibrating because of the friction between the screeching tire and the asphalt. _Five seconds..._ Jihoon felt something clogged his throat when he heard the feeble sound from the ground underneath him. The sound is so feeble that only Jihoon can hear it. It is the sound of something being unhinged, the sound of something being unscrewed. Jihoon knew what it was and as if on reflex, adrenaline filled his body as he faced his back to push the other people away from where he is standing. “MOVE AWAY!” Jihoon yelled to the top of his lungs.

The crowd looked at him with a mix of worry and fear as they jolt away from him. Jihoon looked at the unhinged screws a few steps away from him before looking up and there it is... his death, swinging just above him.

But it’s already too late, as he lifts his feet from where he is standing without tearing his gaze off of the swinging post and hanging traffic light, screams and shrieks filled the air.

If the driver of the dump truck followed the speed limit, there wouldn’t have been a strong vibration which unhinged the screws holding the metal post to the ground. Or maybe, if he didn’t moved three steps backward, he would’ve been in a safe ground.

Jihoon stood frozen and anticipating his own death. The post fell closer and closer to him as his watch reads 6:23 pm then everything went pitch black and dead silent.

 

 

✿

 

  
Beep... beep... beep... beep...

Jihoon grunted as he arched his body, and stretched his arms and legs which are still tangled in his yellow sheets. The air inside his room is still cold so Jihoon collected the mattress that he managed to strip off of himself in his sleep and threw it above him before slamming his alarm shut. With only one eye open, Jihoon reached under his pillow and pulled out his phone.

“December 5, 5:30 am”

Jihoon scoffed as he tugged on his hair gently but forcefully in annoyance. He opened his eyes to see if what he saw was right. When he figured out that he isn’t imaging things, Jihoon clutched the phone and threw it across him with utter irritation.

Jihoon should’ve felt happy that he’s still there, breathing and lying in his solid yet fluffy bed while burying himself under his thick sheets to shield himself from the coldness of winter, but he feels ungrateful. There goes his fate, he woke up again only to find himself stuck on the same day, December 5, Tuesday, and will probably die again on the same time later, 6:23 pm.

Jihoon buried himself in his bed once again. _Thirty more minutes_ , he whispered. This is Jihoon’s ninth time encountering that day and he already memorized everything that is yet to happen; this one for example, Jihoon is brave enough to doze again since he already knew that his first period class teacher, Hwang Minhyun, will be half an hour late because he ran out of fabric softener and will only spend his remaining class hour narrating to his students how hard his journey in finding a fabric softener early in the morning is.

Jihoon also didn’t bother to check on his parents for he knows that when he goes downstairs for breakfast, there’ll be no one, nothing but a neatly folded note stashed under a cold plate of pancake dripping with too much honey. His father won’t be in front of the table answering crossword puzzles on the freshly delivered newspaper and his mom won’t be humming old love songs with an apron hugging her on her waist while facing the kitchen counter.

Jihoon knows why because he read it for what feels like a hundred times already. As the note states, Jihoon’s parents left early to go on a weeklong business trip to a not-so-nearby Asian country and Jihoon won’t be able to contact them for the rest of the day for they’ll be on an airplane.

That made Jihoon’s situation suck more. His parents wouldn’t have noticed it but for Jihoon, it has been eight days since he last saw his parents, let alone hear their voice and it makes him sad and longing.

Jihoon felt like tearing up so to dismiss his sadness and disappointment at life, he shut his eyes once again.

 

  
✿

 

  
“Jihoon, you’re late,” Guanlin said without stripping his gaze off of the mirror he is holding before him.

As Jihoon expected, Hwang Minhyun was late and now that he only have 15 minutes left before his next class, there he is, half sitting and half standing on the teacher’s table while casually conversing with his students. All eyes are on him and laughs echo through the room as he tells the story of how he got late because of a fabric softener.

The first time Jihoon heard about the story, he’s left torso ached because Mr. Hwang’s story is too hilarious to contain, but since it’s Jihoon’s ninth time hearing the story, he realized that it wasn’t funny anymore.

Guanlin eyed him suspiciously, his smile already washed off from his face. “Why aren’t you laughing? Do you not find it funny?”

Instead of answering him, Jihoon just dropped his bag on the side of his table and acts like he is busy. “Guanlin, it seems like you customized your uniform again. It’s cool,” Jihoon said while still focusing on his stuffs. For the past eight days, Guanlin always ask him whether he noticed something new or different about him and for the past eight days, the answer is persistent, it has always been Guanlin’s clothing. However, this time, Jihoon asked Guanlin himself instead of waiting for Guanlin to ask him the same repetitive question.

“Wow, Jihoon. You noticed it? Did I do it stylishly?” Guanlin asked while wriggling his eyebrows up and down while plastering a bright smile on his face.

Jihoon just nod even though his attention is already darted on the piece of paper he pulled out of his bag. Even if Jihoon close his eyes and shut his ears off, he would still manage to answer Guanlin’s inquiries for he has heard it a number of times already.

Well, Jihoon is not lying that Guanlin did a great job in making his uniform fashionable without altering the design that much. The difference with the cut of the original piece and Guanlin’s is visible and eye catching but not exaggerated. Guanlin also looks literally glimmering with all the crystal-like micro beads he sewn on his vest which shines even brighter when got kissed by the sun.

“Uniforms should not hinder us from being fashionable, Jihoon-ah. We should always remember, clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence in the society,” Guanlin added while running his palms through his dress as if it can straighten any visible folds like a real flat iron.

On the first time Jihoon heard Guanlin said this, Jihoon’s jaw dropped in amusement. He wondered since when did something intellectual came out of Guanlin’s mouth and since when did he care about the society. But Jihoon already heard this before from Guanlin, himself, and now Jihoon is now aware that Guanlin is actually quoting Mark Twain.

“Mark Twain,” Jihoon whispered.

“Wait, how did you—“

Jihoon cut Guanlin off, “I just know,” he lied.

 

  
✿

 

  
On lunchtime, Jihoon climbed up to the rooftop to have some private time. All his friends, even Guanlin, are gathered in their classroom to share the meal Bae Jinyoung’s mom prepared for all of them as a celebration for Jinyoung’s grandma’s birthday. For Jihoon, that meal is one of the tastiest meal he ever had but he has been eating it for consecutive days already that he got tired of the taste. So, to escape from his friends, he lied about going to the comfort room and head straight to the rooftop instead where he pulled out a piece of paper and a pencil.

He sat with his knees in front of him which he used as a table to write on and then started scribbling on his paper.

“Life’s Jokes”  
1\. Fell on a bridge  
2\. Got stabbed  
3\. Got shot in a shootout  
4\. Fell down the stairs (sounds stupid)  
5\. Got an aneurysm (though I’m perfectly healthy)  
6\. Got into a bus accident  
7\. Hit his head on something hard but can’t remember what  
8\. Got smashed by a traffic light  
9.

Jihoon stared at the blank number and wondered what will happen to him when the hands of the clock hits 6:23 pm later that day. He wants to feel despaired or mourning for the life he will soon to lose since it’s his ninth life which is also his last life and he knows that if he loses it, he’ll die, for real this time.

The method of dying may be ludicrously different from one another. It may seem silly or unbelievable or both but one thing is persistent; the excruciating physical pain Jihoon feels whenever death dawns at him.

Jihoon let out an exhausted sigh as he crumple the paper he’s holding until it became an ill-looking ball with uneven folds. He threw it in the air as he breathe in a handful, closed his eyes as he rested his back on the sturdy wall behind him and threw his arms to his eyes to block the sunshine.

 

  
✿

 

  
Jihoon remembers how he died for the first time clearly and vividly as if it only happened to him just a moment ago.

It happened on the bridge a few blocks away from his house. That day, Jihoon decided that he could use some exercise after 3 solid hours of sitting in front of Jinyoung’s television with a PlayStation console on his hands, so he walked on his way home.

He noticed how snail-paced he was as he drags his feet down the street and how heavy his bag felt although it was practically vacuous with only a notebook and pen inside. Because it feels like someone is pulling his gaze to his wrist, Jihoon casted a glance at the clock hugging it. 6:15 pm, it reads.

As he was crossing the bridge with his hands on his pockets and head bent down, he heard a murmur from somewhere around him. At first, he thought that it was a cat that is straying in the area but after a few moments, he stopped dead on his track. His head clicked to his left as he strode towards the rail of the bridge. His hunch was right, it was a boy. A boy is hanging on the bridge, basically hugging the rail to keep himself from falling.

Without second thoughts, Jihoon grasped the boys arms and pulled him up with all his power. He poured all his strength and it’s no surprise that his face looks red and scrunched at that moment. When he finally pulled the guy up, they both collapse to the ground catching their own breath. Jihoon faced the boy in front of him and shake him a little to see if he’s okay. The boy’s face looks muzzy as if all the colors on it abandoned it and his arms are lined with the purplish marks left by the rails while his fingers are still blotted with purple because of his tight grip.

The boy examined Jihoon’s face and then his body. The boy’s eyes widen and he gaped, “Oh no, your arms! I’m so sorry!”

Jihoon’s sight traveled from the boy’s face to his own arms where he saw lines in shades of red and violet which are probably products of the boy’s scratches as he seize for the safe ground. It was only when he felt its slight sting.

“No, I’m okay. It doesn’t even hurt. How about you?” concern and worry leaks from his own voice. He reached for the boy’s limp shoulders as he scrutinized him for any visible injury in his body.

“I’m okay, I’m okay. By the way, I’m Daehwi. Thank you for saving my life... umm...“

“Jihoon, my name is Jihoon,” weariness is evident even from Jihoon’s own voice.

“Thank you, Jihoon,” Daehwi muttered as a sweet, genuine smile sparks in his lips.

They just stayed there for minutes, slouched in the cold and dusty ground as the water in the deep river underneath them crashes together creating a relaxing harmony. They sat there motionless like a still photo with only their chests moving up and down as their breaths race.

Jihoon watched as a small yet mischievous smile played on Daehwi’s lips. The wind blew his mandarin hair in every direction making it disheveled. The sun is already blazing orange as the sky gets tainted with shades of violet. Though the surrounding is getting dark, Jihoon caught Daehwi’s eyes sparkle with something, maybe with playfulness or maybe with something else, he’s not sure.

Daehwi stared at Jihoon’s eyes fiercely and Jihoon had this feeling that he is being pinned down. “Do you believe in true love’s kiss, Jihoon?” Daehwi’s voice sounds ethereal as if it’s echoing from somewhere distant, somewhere cold.

Jihoon broke the gaze and pretended to laugh. It doesn’t sound right, he sounds like a chicken but he didn’t mind. “What do you mean?”

Daehwi shrugged as he leaned on the rails and play with the hem of his white shirt. “Do you wanna play a game?” he asked casually as if it was the most normal thing to say after being saved from the brink of death.

Jihoon chuckled in disbelief with what he heard from Daehwi. “Are you sure you want to play a game? Is that the right thing to do after almost losing your life?” He stood up using his worn-out arms for support because his body is still fatigued from saving Daehwi. He held his hand out, just like what he did earlier back when he was pouring all his strength to pull Daehwi up. “Come on, I’ll accompany you on your way home.”

Daehwi swiftly stood up without taking Jihoon’s hand as if he was fully charged, as if he didn’t get tired from his near-death experience. “Come on, Jihoon. Don’t be a bummer. Let’s play.”

Jihoon looked at him, confusion painted in his face. “Okay. So what am going to do?” he said at last.

The sides of Daehwi’s lips instantly shoot up curving into a wide smile. “Okay, in this game, I’ll be the Cupid!” he bobbed up and down like a kindergartner who got a star stamp on the back of his hand.

“Who am I then?”

Daehwi stopped bobbing and his smile got ripped off of his face revealing a serious face. “You’ll gonna be... Jihoon.”

Jihoon laughed softly as if he heard something ridiculously funny. “Okay? I am myself. So, how do we play this? And if I win, what’s my reward?”

Daehwi beamed at him brightly again. His smile lit up the already dark surrounding that he put the setting sun to shame. “You’ll be happy.”

The street is starting to be filled with zooming cars as the clock hits the rush hour. Unfamiliar faces and blurry voices from strangers also filled the area as the students with bags hanging on their backs and workers with their faces stolid pass by. Amid the lackluster, Jihoon’s face lit up with a smile. “What will happen if I lose?”

Daehwi blinked in front of him, his lips slightly parted and his Adam’s apple moving up and down. With a playful grin, Daehwi whispered with his voice sounding so apologetic. “Jihoon, you’ll die.”

The weight of the world fell on Jihoon’s chest. The taste of something bitter started to spread throughout his mouth making him flinch and sweaty. It was just a game, everything is hypothetical and should not be taken seriously; there’s no way he’ll die. It’s not possible that he’ll die so he won’t.

“Daehwi, what do you mean?”

Daehwi yanked Jihoon’s arm and purposely checked the time in the wristwatch belting it. “December 5, 6:23 pm. Only nine lives, Jihoon. The game starts now.”

Jihoon didn’t have time to appeal to Daehwi for he already felt the other boy’s two lean hands against his chest, pushing him forcefully that it almost left a dent. He saw how Daehwi’s nose wrinkled as he pushes him off the bridge and into the deep, almost icy waters with all his might.

The next thing Jihoon knows is that he felt like flying and being one with the air as shrieks and howls from the crowd above him swims through the cool winter breeze. He felt the coldness of the water seep through his flesh and to his bones as water fills his lungs in an overwhelming short period of time.

The last thing he remembers is that he was not sinking nor floating but staying still as he got blinded by the darkness of the water he’s in.

 

  
✿

 

 

The school bell rung signaling that classes are finally over and the students can already go home or roam freely wherever they want to lurk at. The students were already gossiping about how their day went with their phones glued to their hands and eyes pinned on it. The room fell silent as each student leave the room after bidding one another farewell and wishing each other a safe trip home.

When only a bunch of students were left inside finishing each other’s business, Jinyoung approached Jihoon who is still fixing his bag.

Jihoon knew this would happen as it always has. He could’ve fixed his bag quicker so that he can go home earlier with his other classmates and slip out of Jinyoung’s hand, but he didn’t. He learned that with his life always on the line, he should distance himself from other people especially to the one’s who are special to him and this is one way to do it.

Jinyoung poked Jihoon on his side using a ballpen. Jihoon expected Jinyoung to do it, he always do that that Jihoon was no longer surprised. However, for the sake of Jinyoung’s own pleasure, Jihoon pretended that he was shocked. He faced Jinyoung with his hand clutching his chest and eyes as wide as he can that he felt his lids ache a bit.

Jinyoung blurted out a violent laugh, his both hands holding his tummy to muzzle it from being pained. “Yah, Jihoon! Do you wanna come over for a bit? Let’s play video games at home, Guanlin and Daniel are coming over too,” Jinyoung breathed in between laughs.

Jihoon pouted and acts like he’s thinking about it before shrugging and drawing his focus back to his bagpack. His stuffs are already organized and he is ready to make his way home but he still pretends to work his fingers and be busy. “No thanks, man. I still have errands to run.”

Jinyoung nods his head to show that he understands Jihoon’s point. After seeing that the room is getting emptier by every minute, Jinyoung gave Jihoon a steady tap on the shoulder before mouthing “Next time, dude. You’re not allowed to be absent next time.”

Through his peripheral vision, Jihoon saw Jinyoung’s shadow in shades of brown and black collect his things and leave the room after bidding Jihoon a cheerful farewell.

 _Goodbye..._ the words kept on echoing in Jihoon’s mind like a broken vinyl disc playing on a classic phonograph.

Only when Jihoon tasted salt in his mouth did he realized that he was crying. It’s the last goodbye he’ll hear in this lifetime because he is quite sure that this time, it’s goodbye for real.

He wanted hang out with his friends for the last time but given what happened on the third time he died, it’s absolutely not a good idea.

He remembers it, fresh and sound like how he remembers all his deaths. He ran out of the room that day without saying goodbye to anyone to roam around the streets and find the tangerine-head boy, Daehwi and confront him with painfully blunt questions. Little did he know that Jinyoung ran after him. Instead of pushing Jinyoung away knowing that he’ll die sometime soon, Jihoon welcomed him and kept him company.

They were already out in the streets, arms linked and lips stretched into a smile when that happened. Since Jihoon rejected Jinyoung’s invitation to play video games, the both of them played around the city cracking jokes and weaving comical stories while eating ice cream. Jihoon was enjoying their time too much that he forgot about the time. Funny enough, when the clock hits 6:20 pm, a robber approached and targeted Jinyoung’s bag.

The sun was gleaming down at them sending streaks of bright orangey rays. It’s the same rays that hit the robbers hand which shined upon reflecting the pouring sunlight. The moment Jihoon saw the reflected light, he knew that something bad will happen to Jinyoung who is currently having a tug of war with the robber. Jihoon told Jinyoung to let go but Jinyoung won’t budge. When Jihoon saw the rubber swung his hand with a knife towards Jinyoung, Jihoon jumped in the middle of them with his back facing the robber.

He recalls everything in slow motion. His body crashing with Jinyoung’s, his hands crawling on Jinyoung’s back to embrace him and his heavy breathing while he anticipate the sharp knife.

Though blurry, he managed to see how the people around them yelped as they moved backwards leaving a hallow circle with the three of them in the middle. No one dared to mutter a word, no one dared to help, everyone fell silent, their jaws dropped and breaths on hold.

Jihoon heard Jinyoung wail as the sharpness of the knife tore Jihoon’s clothes off and pierce his flesh, disconnecting each muscle from another and squeezing blood out of his limbs. The last thing he heard is the mix of the sound of Jinyoung’s murmur and the thunderous cluttering of the knife as it hits the solid brick pavement as the clock hits 6:23 pm.

From then on, Jihoon tries his best to distance himself from his friends because he can’t bear hurting any of them ever again; seeing them mourn for someone like him, someone who is familiar enough to death that he can befriend it, sucks.

 

  
✿

 

  
Jihoon wanted his last life to be the most memorable one. He wanted to carry awesomeness with him in his grave when he dies so that he can face death with his head held high and his lips arced into a boyish smirk. He’ll show death that living for only a limited time can’t muzzle him from enjoying.

Amid the audacious crowd walking the streets of the outskirts of Seoul, Jihoon is the only one whose lips were zipped. He was thinking of great ways of how he’ll spend his remaining time before he departs. He wanted to climb up to the tallest tower in Seoul, stand on somewhere where the rest of the people can see him and sing to the top of his lungs. He don’t care whichever song it is, what matters to him is to just draw breaths out of his body through singing and to make other people sing along with him.

He also thought of making his name big that everyone can remember him; how bold and brave he is. He thought of going to the nearest toy shop, to buy water guns or pellet guns despite the judging looks and giggles from the kids who are buying along with him. He thought of going to the biggest bank in Seoul, bang the entrance doors open, stride through the squeaky clean marble floor and held his hand with the fake gun high while watching the doomed faces of the clients and tellers. That way, these people will know him and who knows, maybe if he’s lucky, he can make it to the newspaper or news telecast. After all, publicity, good or bad is still publicity.

However, even though these daredevil provoking ideas filled Jihoon’s mind, he only found himself paving his way to his favorite coffee shop which he only visits on weekends.

 

  
✿

 

  
The chimes hanging in the doorframe of the café rung as Jihoon pushes his way in, making people who filled the half full room turn their heads in his direction. The orangey sunlight seeps through the glass walls and kisses the potted indoor succulents on top of each table leaving an aesthetic sight as soft, relaxing saxophonic music plays in the speakers hanging in each corners of the room.

The moment Jihoon opened the glass door, the thick aromatic smell of coffee hits his nose; the smell of caffeine brought him back to his senses. He made his way to counter and fell in line. He sheepishly peeped through his forelocks to see whether his favorite barista is on duty or not. When he found out that he is, Jihoon found himself hiding a small smile.

Jihoon fell in love with that café as soon as he stepped inside it three months ago. It was a weekend and Jihoon is on his way home back then when the clouds gone gray and droplets made their way down from the sky. Since Jihoon’s clothes are not suitable for such weather and since it started to rain cats and dogs, he decided to make a stop in the café he always pass by on his way home. He was drenched and soaking when he entered leaving mini puddles on the wooden floor. He just stood beside the door, staring in the glass window as the rain pours with his mind floating with nothingness. He felt his body shake and his lips tremble with the coldness that his jacket failed to shield him from but a warm hand patted his back suddenly. He looked back to see a smiling guy pushing a warm, fluffy towel to him.

Jihoon can’t remember what made him come back to that café every weekends. Is it the soothing smell of caffeine floating in the air? Is it the tantalizing aesthetics of the place? LOr is it the generous barista whose nametag screams “Woojin” who possess the cutest snaggletooth Jihoon ever seen?

Jihoon snapped back into reality when a voice oozing with Busan accent called him. Woojin who’s still behind the bar hands him his warm cup of macchiato with a grin. Jihoon turned his back with a warm smile and then headed to the table near the balcony where he can smell the scent of the city.

In the middle of the chin-wags of the customers inside, Jihoon remained silent contemplating and weighing his crisis. His fingers kept on tapping the table creating faint thuds and his mind keeps on running, brimming with thoughts of what will happen when he dies, how his family would mourn and blame themselves though they did nothing wrong and how his friends would be beyond distraught that they will wish for life to end too. Dying, for real this time will not end the pain Jihoon’s feels over and over again as his body gets devoured by death. Dying like this – no signs, no heartfelt goodbyes – will only give his pain to his beloved ones; pain that will only corrupt their happiness and Jihoon’s heart wretched at the thought.

Jihoon studied the layers of milk and coffee in his cup. The warm milk at the bottom of the translucent cup started to cloud the coffee in the middle and so does the cold milk on the top. What happened was fast, just as how his life went by as fast a shooting star crossing the night sky and he felt empty. He is yearning to do something, something worth remembering, something that is utterly crazy. And as his gaze grazed on the small smiley face Woojin scribbled on the brownish tissue that came along with his cup, Jihoon’s lips shoot up to the side.

Jihoon dipped his finger in the cup and when he confirmed that it is already cold, he stood up, macchiato on one hand and a crazy idea on the other. He retraced the steps he paved from the bar where Woojin was. He wonder why he never talked to Woojin even though it’s clear to him that he is dying to know the other guy better.

 _Do it! JIHOON! TRUE LOVE’S KISS! You’ll die anyway, why not try?_ he advised to himself.

Sometimes, you need insane courage to make fruitful results; just twenty seconds of craziness and something great will spark.

“Hi, is there something wrong? Can I help you?” Woojin welcomed Jihoon as he approached the bar.

Jihoon’s gaze stayed there for a while. He just marveled at how Woojin looks gorgeous in his uniform. He is wearing a cream-colored long sleeves that is folded up to his elbows, a black pants, a pair of worn out sneakers, a dark coffee apron which is spoilt with coffee powder, a beret on the top of his head and a sweet toothy smile.

“Yes, please help me,” Jihoon mutters softly. “Help me taste this,” he says as he pushes his cup forward.

A frown appeared on Woojin’s face as he moved closer. “I’m not sure how I’ll help you, sir, but I’ll try,” Woojin answered with certainty even though his face says the opposite.

“Good,” Jihoon whispered as he wrapped his fingers on the handle of the cup and lifts it. With trembling hands, he splashed the macchiato to Woojin’s face making the latter one flinch in surprise. He didn’t even have a chance to hear the reactions of the people inside because the moment flashed to him on a slow-mo. Even before Woojin mutter a curse at what Jihoon did, Jihoon yanked Woojin by the apron and pulled him closer.

Jihoon held his breath as he closed the distance between their lips. Nothing matters to him at the moment, not the people around them, not the blowing horns of the cars outside, not his own wilding heartbeat. What matters to him is how beautiful Woojin’s eyes are as it widened by bewilderment revealing its glimmer.

Their lips touched and Jihoon sucked in breath which allowed him to smell the scent of coffee mixed with Woojin’s perfume. The moment felt perfect. Woojin’s soft lips fitted perfectly with Jihoon’s. His lips were warm and soft against Jihoon’s.

When Jihoon broke the kiss, he was drunk and he wasn’t sure if Woojin’s lips or the taste of macchiato made him feel that way.

 

  
✿

 

  
_Seven minutes..._

Jihoon dropped his hand upon seeing the time. He is now permeating his way out of the crowd to the bridge where he first met his death. If this game would finally be over, he wants it to end where it begun. Besides, he don’t want to have audiences in his death, he wants to be remembered as Jihoon, not as “the boy who died gruesomely in front of the world.”

Or maybe not. Maybe Jihoon just want to go there to see if that kid, Daehwi is there. Maybe he is yearning for answers to his piled up questions. Or maybe, he thinks that Daehwi can stop the curse; maybe he wants to be saved.

The truth is, it has only been minutes since he left the café where he showed his insanity. As soon as his’ and Woojin’s lips parted, Jihoon flew from the scene leaving the customers inside jaw-dropped, Woojin staring in the blank air with his lips still parted and his heart still thumping the craziest way possible. He didn’t even mutter a word nor waved before he left. He just turned his back, carried his things and departed with a small smile painted in his lips. He didn’t even took a second look to see what Woojin’s reaction is.

_Three minutes..._

Jihoon found himself running like a horse on a race. This is not good, at this rate, he wouldn’t make it on time. He won’t see if Daehwi is there, he will probably die with unanswered questions and he is sure that these will keep on haunting him even on his deathbed.

He looks on the traffic light in front of him. Three seconds, there are still three seconds before the light turns red. Jihoon can’t waste any time so he started to run again hoping that he could pass by safely but in the middle of the road, the cars roared back into life and zooming sounds hastily approached him. He stopped dead on his tracks, turning his head from where the sounds came from only to see the cars close the distance between them in the speed of light.

Jihoon sucked in breath. _This can’t be. It’s still not the right time. Not here, not now..._ his own voice echoed inside his mind. His sight grows blurry as his death approach him. But then, a pair of hands grabbed him by his waist pulling him away. Jihoon looked up to see who that person is but through his lashes and blurry eyes, he only saw the blue with a kiss of orange sky.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> to be continued...
> 
> dw jinhwi is not a clickbait ;)


	2. coffee and too much sugar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for not updating *hands you a gun* ㅠㅠ i promise to post my update REAL soon (i bet you a dime)!! Thank you for staying! (if you did hehe!)

_He’s like coffee_

_Bitter on the outside_

_Sweet on the inside_

_A captivating soul_

_A warm rain_

_A cup of hot coffee_

_Dying to be danced in_

_Dying to be drank in_

 

Jihoon slowly looked up to see who the person behind him is. With his sight still blurry, he saw the sky in shades of blue and something orange, except that it wasn’t orange anymore. The longer his eyes lingers at that view, the more vague it become. The orange grew darker as if it’s turning red, then, it turned darker again making it look like a red blanched in violet until it pop into an auburn.

Jihoon’s hand travels to the pair of hands in his waist as his other hand reached up to touch the auburn-colored hair above him. But his motion stopped for a bit when a hot breath brushed past his ear as the sound of labored breathing wraps it. When his hand continued moving, gaping to reach its goal, he heard a loud bawl.

  
“JIHOON! WTF! LET GO OF MY HAIR!”

Jihoon’s eyes flew open as his head turns to where the grunts came from. Jihoon saw Jinyoung with his face buried on the mattress he is lying on while his hand is still at Jinyoung’s head, clutching his hair.

Jihoon squinted when he realized that it was a dream; he was dreaming. He immediately let go of Jinyoung’s hair then stroked it gently to bring back its smugness. Jinyoung just glared at him while leaning back to his seat with his arms crossed and expressions dark.

Jihoon’s eyes strolled at his surroundings. It’s the familiar walls, familiar washed out watercolor paintings of landscapes and galaxies hanging recklessly in the wall, familiar futuristic yet minimalistic furnitures and familiar minty scent floating in the atmosphere inside. Jihoon realized that he is in his room, in his bed with Jinyoung.

“Wait, what are you doing here?” Jihoon shuffled in his bed and tried to sit up to talk properly but he only hurt his head in the process so Jinyoung supported him with shaky hands and smoothly laid him back on his bed.

“I’m here to guard you and to take care of you, Jihoon. You skipped school today. I was worried.” After saying that, Jinyoung stood up and poured a glass of water that was not original there but is now there—above Jihoon’s bedside table. “Water?”

Jihoon just perused the glass held by Jinyoung’s extended arms without even flinching. “Jinyoung, can I borrow your phone?” he asked making it sound not like a question but more of a command. His eyes were fixed in front of him yet he is staring at nothing.

Jinyoung automatically reached for his back pocket pulling out the silvery device before handing it out to Jihoon. “Here," he mouthed

Jihoon snatched it from Jinyoung’s hands and as what he usually does, he quickly checked the time and the date as if it it's everything that matters.

December 6, 7:02 pm

Jihoon’s eyes widened as he let out a violent squall of disbelief. He bolted upright forgetting that he have extreme headaches at the moment. On the other hand, Jinyoung driven by utter shock nearly dropped the glass in his hand before finally settling it back down at the bedside table, careful not to spill even a drop on the white granite floor.

“Why? Jihoon, what’s wrong?” he snapped while throwing himself to the bed beside Jihoon. His eyes are peeping at the phone's screen to see what made Jihoon scramble like that.

“A-am I free?” Jihoon whispered breathlessly. Jihoon doesn’t feel good and he’s sure that it’s not the headache echoing in his head but the disappointment crawling to his throat. He is fully sentient that fireworks should be flying and popping in his mind at that moment in celebration for him not being slaughtered by death, yet he couldn't bring himself to feel like it, to be genuinely blissful.

Why is it December 6? Why didn’t he died? Why is he still alive? He should’ve died, it’s his last life. He should be gone by now, not in his bed, not in his room, not with Jinyoung.

“Jinyoung, how did I get here?” he asked with eagerness brimming in his mouth.

“I don’t know, Jihoon. I forgot to ask the guy you were with before I got here,” Jinyoung said while shrugging. He stared at Jihoon sheepishly through his round, bright eyes.

“I was with a guy today?” Jihoon blurted out. He was surprised that he was still alive but he got a lot more surprised, maybe even beyond it, upon hearing these words roll out of Jinyoung's tongue. “How does he look like? Have you noticed anything about him?”

Jihoon is positive that that guy is his hero. The one who saved his life from the edge of death, actually the first one to do that and he wants not only to thank him but also to inquire about what happened. There is a pinch of hope in him that his question can somehow be answered by that person; how is he still alive and will he still be alive in the succeeding days.

Jinyoung raucously exhaled before planting himself in his bed and looking up at the ceiling as if answers from his questions can be drawn from there. "I can't remember that much. I didn't pay much attention to him because I panicked when I saw you drooped in your be unconscious."

Jihoon sighed. He felt defeated though he obviously won a game he didn't even know how to play, the game of life and death. However, somehow, his heart feel empty from these words, as if he's longing for something he's yet to know.

Jinyoung rolled down Jihoon's bed, wildly landing with his bottom. "Oh. I did notice one thing. He smells like coffee."

 

✿

  
The café door creaked open sending resonating sounds from the door chimes hanging on it. "We're closed for today," says the sharp voice echoing from underneath the counter as sounds of jar being moved circulate the room.

It took a moment before Jihoon can mutter a soft ‘excuse me’ for he was drawn by the ludicrous sight before him. He can’t believe with what lies before his eyes. Frankly, the café looks exactly the same when he left it yesterday. No one would believe that it’s the same neat and aesthetically pleasing café. The place looks dusty and untended: rings of coffee marks stamped the maple tables and the tables and chairs made it look like catastrophe and armageddon had a child but on top of it all, Jihoon can’t help but notice how the floor and countertop where he made a coffee shower looks shining with stickiness. Maybe Jinyoung is telling the truth after all, maybe Woojin did stay the whole day in his house tending his sick self instead of cleaning the cafe and attending to his business.

  
After a few shuffles and thuds here and there, Woojin popped out of the counter with his hair unimaginably disheveled and a stained coffee colored apron loosely hanging from his neck. A dark frown flashed in his face in an instant after seeing who the unexpected visitor is. “What are you doing here?” his voice thunderous and echoing.

Jihoon took a few steps forward though his hands are shaking. He cleared his throat before he raised his gaze to meet Woojin’s. “I’m here to thank you.”

“For what?”

“For saving me and for taking care of me today even if it means that you have to leave your café in this state,” his voice is still shaking as if it was shaken by a massive earthquake caused by his wildly thumping heart in his chest. Once again, he threw his gaze in the room and he made note not you post a disgustied look in his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I didn’t save you nor took care of you. I was out today running some errands and I forgot to give the keys to the staffs so it’s a mess.” His tone is expressionless and so his face; it is stolid, almost cold making Jihoon flinch on the inside.

Jihoon’s mind shook after hearing those words. Was he wrong? Is it not Woojin?

His feet are taking a few steps back without him noticing because his mind was tangled like haywire when the door creaked open spitting out a boy.

He entered the café cozily as if he was there since forever and as if it was his home. He walked straight to Jihoon then he wrapped his arms in his shoulders while poking his left torso. “Hyung, you found him.”

Jihoon’s eyes flicked to Jinyoung, curiosity reeking. “Is he the guy you’re talking about, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung just nodded his small head while throwing a thumbs up to Woojin. “Yo! Thank you for taking care of Jihoonie hyung. You did a great job. See? He’s fully recovered, he even went here alone as if he was not buried unconscious in his bed all day,” he exclaimed with his eyebrows bouncing up and down.

A smirk sparked in Jihoon’s lips as he dropped Jinyoung’s arms and leaned in the counter. “Wow. So I’m the errand you ran today? Why lie, Woojin?”

This time, it’s Woojin who looked away and turned his back as if he’s avoiding Jihoon’s mere presence. He busied himself aligning the jars of coffee and creamers in the shelf. “Just go away.”

Jihoon heard Jinyoung drag one of the chairs while muttering an ‘eww’ before settling himself comfortably.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Park but I’m gonna stay here to help you, the least way I can repay you for your goodness,” he announced before reaching for a tablecloth carelessly resting in the countertop.

“Wow. You got the nerve to come here and offer your help after humiliating me in front of everyone with your quacking coffee shower, kissing me and fleeing away as if I’m the one who did you wrong,” Woojin whispered loud enough for Jihoon and Jinyoung to hear, loud enough to make Jihoon’s racing heart race more and his cheeks to be cherry red.

Jinyoung, still shocked, stood up from his chair suddenly which sent the chair flying and hitting the floor as hard as an asteroid crashing to the Earth’s crust. “You did what, Jihoon?”

Jihoon just sighed, “Yes, I kissed him. Now shut up and don’t ask questions because I won’t be answering them.” He threw the tablecloth towards Jinyoung as hard as he can that it almost hit the latter’s face. “Just help us, okay?” He said before making his way to the utility room to fetch the cleaning tools.

 

✿

 

It’s past 1 am when the three of them finished tidying up. Jihoon mentality kicked himself in the gut as he was scrubbing the sticky marks of the macchiato he spilled on the floor and on the countertop. As he was stressing himself, Jinyoung and Woojin on the other hand, seems to be enjoying each other’s company singing and grooving to the songs that pops in their mind. For a moment there, Jihoon felt like he was on another planet, he felt out of place.

Woojin and Jinyoung bid each other farewell with a boyish fistbump while Jihoon is internally glaring at the both of them but as they were stepping out of the place, big, fat raindrops freefall from the dark void sky above them.

“Looks like we’re extending our stay, Jihoonie hyung,” Jinyoung said as he pat Jihoon’s shoulder and hazily made his way back to the café.

With a sigh, Jihoon limply followed him inside and lifelessly threw himself in one of the sofas in the end corner of the room where he can see the entirety of the dimly lit streets. He feels his eyelids getting heavier and yawns are being summoned so he rested his head above his arms that are nicely propped above the coffee table.

After a moment, he felt a soft kick in his side. “Wake up and follow me,” Woojin ordered without even shooting him a look.

Jihoon did as Woojin said. They were also followed by Jinyoung who is happily hopping behind them. Woojin lead them to a dark maple door, a door which Jihoon only saw for the first time despite the fact that he have been in the place tons of times already and despite the fact that he already memorized the the place. A big sign is also screaming in front of their faces saying ‘Restricted Area’ and Jihoon can’t help but wonder what is inside.

Woojin carefully unlocked the door before carefully opening it. Jihoon felt a wave of curiosity wash over him and when he peeked at Jinyoung, the other kid’s face is washed by the same wave. However, Jihoon got disappointed when he realized that the room was too dark to see anything, even a blurred silhouette of whatever is inside.

Woojin face them again, his face blank and expression is nowhere to be seen. “Please remove your shoes before you enter,” he whispered.

They removed their shoes and followed Woojin inside the dark room. The wooden floor feels warm under his soles and a moment later, the room illuminated as Woojin reached for the switch in the wall.

Jihoon realized that it wasn’t a mere room, it’s a house and in this case, maybe Woojin’s house. Woojin lead them to the sofa. “I’ll get you something to drink first, something that is not coffee since you still have school tomorrow,” after that, he left.

Jinyoung spreaded his arms and leaned back in the sofa before he clutch one throw pillow and lied. “Ahh, hyung I’m sleepy,” he muttered through his yawn.

Neither did Jihoon mind him nor answered him, instead he marveled at how neatly kept the house is, as if someone devoted his time in tending the house and giving it the real “home vibe.” However, his train of thoughts went to a halt when a familiar figure emerged from the dark. It’s been days since Jihoon last saw him but and his hair is now in a mist of black but Jihoon still remembers him clearly.

Without much thought, Jihoon stood and dig on his heels, disbelief flowing in his veins. He can’t believe that he’s seeing him now and most of all, here of all places. The boy before him with his body wrapped in a bathrobe and his hair dripping wet, made his insides burn. He felt like Mt. St. Helens is raging inside him and is about to erupt any moment soon.

The boy looked at him sheepishly as if it’s his first time seeing Jihoon. “Uhm, who are you guys?” he asked.

Jihoon clenched his fist and and whispered ‘Daehwi’ before digging his way towards him and throwing a punch. “WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME?!”   
  
Daehwi sat up properly before wiping the side of his cracked lips. He winced at the sight of weak blood lining this finger that he used to wipe his lips and judging by the look on his face, it surely stings. “What are you taking about? Who are you? WOOJIN HYUNG! Someone’s here!” he shrieked.

The next thing Jihoon knows is that Woojin locked his arms with his from behind and Jinyoung is helping Daehwi get up on his toes and holding him back too, just in case he decided to pay back Jihoon’s punch.

“Do you know what I’ve been through because of your stupid game Daehwi?! Do you know how painful and confusing it is?!” Jihoon’s eyes were already pooling and the veins in his neck are about to burst. Jihoon wanted to see Daehwi again, to confront him, to ask him question and most of all, to stop the curse he casted on him.

Daehwi’s nose crinkled and his head were lined with a frown. “We just met! What game are you taking about?”

“That day! When we met by the bridge! I saved you when you almost fell but you gave me a curse or whatever!” He shouted as he felt Woojin’s grip tighten.

Realizing that Daehwi won’t fight back, Jinyoung approached Jihoon, shook his shoulder and drag Jihoon forcibly. “We need to go. We’re sorry for the ruckus Jihoon hyung caused,” he said before turning his back and shooting Woojin a nod.

Woojin nodded right back at him but called him back right after. Jihoon, still fuming and Jinyoung, still stressed with Jihoon, looked back at him before he threw them a pair of umbrellas.

“Be careful,” he said.

 

✿

 

Woojin almost dropped a cup of espresso when Jihoon suddenly popped out out of nowhere while trying to tie an apron on his back. “Who let you in?” he wondered which turned out more like a scowl.

“An ‘OPEN’ sign is posted outside in red flashing colors. Obviously, I let myself in,” he merrily retorted as he successfully tied his apron. After that, he reached for the order slips behind Woojin and tucked in a black pencil behind his ears.

“What are you doing? And who gave that apron?” Woojin was half-screaming, half-whispering. If only there were no customers at that time, Woojin would have flipped and carry Jihoon out of the café just like how a cat would carry it’s child.

“Since, I’m not wearing an apron, I’m officially helping you out in this café. It looks like you need an extra hand and a handful of aide,” he whistled and spin like a kid not because he wants to annoy Woojin but because he’s genuinely happy to help. For who knows what reason, Jihoon liked the idea of being an extra hand in that café maybe because he likes the smell of coffee a little bit too much or maybe because in Woojin’s side, he feel at peace since the guy already saved him. “That cool guy gave me this wonderful apron”, he said as he extended his arms and pointed at the guy who welcomed him with open arms.

Woojin’s gaze followed the tip of Jihoon’s pointing finger. “Ong Seongwu, you idiot,” he whispered with distaste as he eye him as he crack a joke to the customers. He massaged his forehead with his left hand. Ong Seongwu, a friend of Woojin’s have been helping him out in the café since it has been opened. Ong have no interest for the salary he’ll receive for he is after the experience, as a matter of fact, he wants to build his own café someday. Sometimes, Woojin would catch him scribbling interior designs of cafés in a tissue which he later would neatly fold it into quarters and carefully tuck inside the backpocket of his black slacks. Despite Ong’s protest in accepting his salary, Woojin reasonably pays him nonetheless by secretly stashing the envelop with cash in Ong’s coat.

He turned back to Jihoon with his consistent frown. “I won’t pay you, so get lost.”

Jihoon glared at him, “I’m not gonna ask for it anyway.” He flipped the order sheet and clicked his pen open and turned his back to Woojin. “I’m gonna deliver orders now,” he declared before he snatched the latte Woojin prepared beforehand and walk towards the customers.

 

✿

  
Jinyoung wiped him wet palms in his pants, then he straightened his uniform and fixed his backpack. He have no idea why he was so excited at the idea of going to this place and seeing this boy again when in reality, he wouldn’t have been here if Jihoon didn’t ask him to.

He pushed the doorbell then straightened his uniform again. He was ready for this moment, he was even extra careful at school not to spoil and stain his uniform. He didn’t even bought a meal with sauce for lunch to avoid unnecessary accidents and didn’t even move a lot so he won’t be sweaty.

When the door opened, he was greeted by Daehwi who’s still in his uniform with his necktie loosened and his frown waving on his forehead. Jinyoung didn’t wait for him to let him in, instead he shuffled his way inside not minding Daehwi’s loquacious petitions. Just like what he did when he first came in that house, he let his body fall freely in the soft sofa as he hugs one of the velvety throw pillows that was arranged identical with the others as if it was calculatedly placed there.

“What are you doing here? Woojin hyung is in the café, not here,” Daehwi complained as he runs after Jinyoung. As soon as he’s standing before Jinyoung, he took the other boy’s arms and tugged him to get up.

But instead of letting Daehwi drag him, Jinyoung tugged him back which caused Daehwi to crash in the soft patch beside him. “I’m here to check on you. Jihoon hyung is feeling apologetic for his craziness.”

Daehwi froze for a moment but after he regained his sanity, he harshly took his arm back then stood up to go to his room with his soles leaving imaginary dents on the floo. “Stay there,” he said without looking back before he slams the door shut.

Jinyoung smiled to himself.

 

✿

  
Jinyoung woke up to the sweet, chocolatey smell of something being baked. He stretched his arms and legs as he shuffled in bed but he fell on the floor in the process. It was only then that he realized that he wasn’t sleeping in his fluffy bed, in his warm room, he’s still at Daehwi’s house and his nose is not playing him, Daehwi is indeed baking.

He got up and fuzzily walked towards him. “Can I help?” he asked under his sleepy lashes.

Daehwi just glared at him then pushes a mug brimming with a brown liquid. “Here. I made you hot chocolate.”

Jinyoung threw him a toothy smile then cupped the warm mug. He sniffed and got drenched by the chocolatey smell that seemed to be already filling the corners of his stomach. “More marshmallows please,” he pleaded with a pout.

Daehwi just sighed then poured a couple more marshmallows.

“Can I help?”

Without eyeing him, Daehwi pointed at the sack of flour near the sink. “Please move that sack to the pantry, its over there.”

Instead of doing so, Jinyoung mustered up a handful of flour then blew it to Daehwi who just closed his eyes firmly then coughed vigorously as if he’s running for his life.

“JINYOUNG ARE YOU CRAZY!!!” Daehwi angrily dropped the bag of chocolate frosting he’s using to design the cupcakes with.

Jinyoung just shrugged.  _Maybe I am, maybe for you._

Daehwi, rolled the sleeves of his shirt then held Jinyoung’s shoulder steadily. “Come here, you rat.” He then flicked his finger at Jinyoung’s forehead which instantly turned to popping red. Jinyoung fell frozen as the statues towering the fountains in the nearby park. Daehwi burst into laughter at seeing Jinyoung’s reaction that he had to clutch his tummy and lean on the table for support.

With that laugh, Jinyoung seemed to be snapped back to reality. He chuckled while watching Daehwi laughing like crazy but a new evil plan popped in his mind. He picked up the bag of frosting, squeezed it perpetually and dotted the frosting at the tip of Daehwi’s nose. Daehwi’s laughter stopped and a dark look etched on his face.

“Jinyoung, you’re really dead now.”

 

✿

 

The café is now empty and the three of them are already done with cleaning up what the busy day left behind. Jihoon is collecting the empty coffee mugs while wiping the empty tables clean with his damp cloth, Ong is moping the floor and casually spraying some conditioner in the floor to give the room a refreshing, floral scent while Woojin is tidying up the counter.

Ong being a person who’s not a fan of solace and silence broke the silence first. He pulled one chair then rested his chin in the backreat before asking Jihoon. “So what do you like to do Jihoon?”

Jihoon shoot Ong a look then, peeped at Woojin if he is listening only to be disappointed that the latter one is too engrossed in wiping the countertop. “Uhm, I like to eat,” he replied without a trace of awkwardness in his voice.

Ong stomped his feet, “Ya! Jihoon-ah, I like to eat too but I don’t mean something like that.”

Jihoon scratched his nape and chuckled. He raised the tray towered by mugs, both empty and half empty. “I like to dance.”

With that, Ong rose to his feet and excitedly jumped up and down. “I like to dance too! Wanna see my moves?” he giggled.

Jihoon nodded with a smile so Ong dropped his mop which caught Woojin’s attention. “Here I go! A A A A!” he sang while doing some funny moves.

Jihoon and Woojin’s laughing synchronizedly filled the room. Ong even closed his eyes while dancing that he hit the pail with muddied water while doing his ending pose. The water from the pail flowed out like a flashflood while leaving massice puddles, puddles that Jihoon failed to take note of.

Jihoon slipped in one of the puddles that he lost footing. Afraid to send the mugs flying and crashing in the floor into a hundred broken shards, Jihoon hugged it which is somewhat a wrong move because now, he is soaked and sticky with spilled coffee.

Ong cried out loud like a lost kid yelling “Sorry! Oh no! Sorry! But can you do that again? It’s so funny!”

Jihoon laughed faintly, replied with an ‘It’s okay’ then stood up to collect the mugs. While fixing and piling up the dirty mugs, a pair of black shoes appeared in front of him.

“Come, let’s get you a clean shirt. You look stupid right now,” Woojin scoffed. Without waiting for Jihoon, he buzzed his way to the door leading to his house so Jihoon had to ran after him leaving the tray and mugs still in the flooded floor, leaving Ong having to double his efforts in drying the floor.

As they were entering the house, Woojin didn’t forgot to remind Jihoon to remove his shoes and Jihoon winced at house icy Woojin’s voice once again is.

As he made way to thw sofa where he’ll wait for Woojin, he found two pairs of feet tangled together. It took him a few more steps before the side by side, dozing faces of Daehwi and Jinyoung registered to him. Their faces were a wreck, flour is comically covering their faces and funny images where dotted on it using what seemed like chocolate frosting. He thought of waking both of them up so they can get cleaned and tidy.

He leaned in to Jinyoung and tapped his face a little but a pair of cold and damp hands held him by the shoulder and distanced him away from the sleeping boys.

“Let them be,” Woojin softly said as he shove a clean white shirt to Jihoon. “Get changed first. As I said, you look stupid.”

Jihoon scoffed and muttered, “As if you don’t look stupid yourself.”

Woojin just chuckled which made Jihoon frozen like stone. He crouched to pick up a small pail filled with warm water and a piece of pink cloth.

“What are you doing?” Jihoon asked while unbuttoning his uniform.

“I can’t let my brother and Jinyoung sleep with their faces like that. They’ll get zits if I let them,” Woojin whispered and with the damp pink cloth, he gently wiped Jinyoung’s face making sure that he won’t miss a patch of skin still uncleaned. After cleaning Jinyoung’s face, Woojin leaned in to Daehwi and cleaned his face too.

Instead of going to the bathroom to get changed, Jihoon took a sit beside Woojin and watched the other boy clean Daehwi and even comb his hair with his fingers.

“They’re surely tired from playing,” Woojin breathed under his smile.

 

✿

  
Ong jumped up and down when the door spit Jihoon out with his bag still hanging in his back. “AHA! SEE? I’M RIGHT!” Ong exclaimed while laughing at Woojin.

Jihoon walked toward the counter to stash his bag and reach for an apron. “What’s happening?”

Woojin just shook his head as he continue drying the newly washed mugs. “You just made him hyper again just by being here.”

Ong abandoned an inquiring customer just to pat Jihoon in the shoulder. “Have you seen the sign outside the door?” he asked with geniune curiosity.

“Yeah, the one saying ‘No Park Jihoon Allowed Inside’?” he replied then he spun so that his back is facing Ong. Ong seemed to understand what he wanted to happen. Ong grabbed the ribbons of the apron and tied it tightly for him. When he’s done doing it, he spun Jihoon himself so that they’re now facing each other.

“Woojin made me write it though I clearly told him that we shouldn’t since you’ll still come here even if we tell you not to! HAHAHAHA!” he exclaimed while bobbing up and down. “He just wasted my time and some chalk.”

Jihoon just laughed with him and gave Woojin a dagger look which Woojin nudged with another dagger look of the same intensity.

“Ong Hyung, back to work please. The lady in the table near the window seems to be needing assistance,” he demanded with his voice oozing with authority.

Ong just nodded at him and made a funny salute before he literally marched off towards the lady Woojin pointed to.

“And you Jihoon, can you head home late tonight? I need you,” he awkwardly stuttered.

“Sure Woojin. Why not?”

 

✿

  
It’s been a while since Ong left and the atmosphere inside the cafe grew thick and awkward. Woojin pulled a chair near the counter and told Jihoon to sit on it; he even made sure that Jihoon can see him from his seat while he’s working.

It has been already minutes since Woojin started brewing coffee, crashing chocolates and slicing chewy chocolate cupcakes. Not that Jihoon is getting sleepy and bored but he can’t resist humming since the it’s getting more awkward as minutes pass by. Surprisingly, Woojin hummed along with him and he can’t help but be amused at their harmonized voices.

After a while, Woojin came back at him with two cups in his hand. “This drink have a special place in my heart. My father used to buy this for me in a special coffee shop that is already closed. Since this recipe is from a foreign country, I never tasted again so when I opened this café, and since I already have the means, I tried recreating it. And now, I’m proud to tell you that I got the taste close,” Woojin smiled then took a sip.

Jihoon smiled back at him, sipped and got blank and speechless. “What do you call this?! It’s so good Woojin!”

Woojin just chuckled, his snaggletooth showing a bit. “It’s called fudgy wudgy.”

Jihoon gulped again and it seems like he’s getting more addicted with every sip. “What’s in it?”

“Mostly cofee, more chocolate and chocolate cupcakes,” he shrugged as if it’s nothing.

“Why don’t you add this to the menu?”

Woojin propped down the cup and eyed Jihoon straight in the eyes before speaking. “This drink is important to me and I want it to remain important to me and to the important people whom I shared it with.”

With that, Jihoon’s palms got sweaty and his heart raced like crazy making his cheeks feel as if they were infuriated. He unconsciously licked his lips and looked everywhere except from Woojin’s face. It took him a great deal of effort before he whispered ‘Oh’.

“See you tomorrow, Jihoon,” Woojin smiled at him.

“See you tomorrow, Woojin,” Jihoon smiled back.

 

✿

 

The next day after that, Woojin tried his best to act normal and to stop himself from looking at the glass door, from waiting for Jihoon who never came that day, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the week after that.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Leave loves in the comment box if you liked it!! Also, hmu on @jihoonandchill on twt and cc if you wanna drop feedbacks and/or give some prompts. *winks*


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